Chapter 13

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The Death Eaters didn't leave and after a month it was common knowledge they were there.

The entire reserve was on edge.

Extracurriculars were cancelled.

A curfew was put into place.

Everywhere you went, you never went alone.

It was driving Lucy mad.

"I need to get word to the order," Charlie said, pacing through the kitchen, "I just don't know how."

"Floo?" Lucy sighed, getting dizzy watching him walk in circles.

Charlie shook his head, "not connected."

"Patronus?"

"I doubt it will travel that far," Charlie pulled on the ends of his hair, "I don't know what to do, I wasn't expecting them to stay this long."

"Yeah because they were just going to walk away," Lucy snorted, "honestly, Charlie, this is a war, I doubt they'll leave until they get what they want."

"They've got the whole reserve surrounded," Charlie said, "we've had to cancel all our imports and exports, we're going to run out of food if they keep this up."

"Politics and economics," Lucy sighed, "they go hand in hand."

"I didn't think the war would spread this far."

Lucy laughed bitterly, "you should've seen it before I left—Hogwarts and London I mean...it's a proper shite-show. I reckon it's only gotten worse."

The guilt sank into her bones, while her friends were risking their lives, living in the middle of the war. She was hiding away, her biggest concern being stuck behind barriers. 

Her mind strayed to Sawyer, as it often did these days. It gave her comfort to imagine scenarios in her head.

What was he doing right now?

He was at the hospital, St. Mungo's, he looked happy and healthy, a smile on his face. He was doing what he loved. At night, when his shift was over, he went home to Aberforth, they'd drink Butterbeer while cooking dinner together. Then they'd play a round of chess before going to bed.

That's how she imagined it.

That's how she wanted it to be.

Sawyer, happy and healthy, blue eyes bright and curls that wrapped around his face.

Not the lifeless bodies that haunts her every time she closes her eyes.

>•<

There was a boy, awkwardly tall and gangly, seemingly about thirteen.

"Mr. Thorton!" McGonagall's strict voice rang out, "what're you doing! Are you just now getting back from the village? Curfew was nearly an hour ago!"

Sawyer hadn't seemed to notice her, he was just staring at his feet, the fondest expression on his face.

"Mr. Thorton!" McGonagall fumed, "what is the matter with you!"

He looked up and his blue eyes widened, "oh, I'm sorry, Professor, what were you saying?"

"Mr. Thorton! You explain yourself right now, because I ought to give you detention."

"I met a girl in the village," Sawyer sighed in happiness, "she's amazing, the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

"All this about a girl?" McGonagall raised an eyebrow.

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